Enemy
by Sindel
Summary: Pikachu and Fox are complete enemies...they hate each other more than they ever hated another person. Oneshot...and don't expect it to be much.


"Bite me."

Pikachu's face remained unchanged at his comment, "Sorry, I don't swing that way." He coldly said, his tone dripping with acid.

Smirking across from him was one person Pikachu truly hated in the entire mansion-Fox McCloud.

Pikachu never truly understood _why_ they hated each other so much, with such passion-they never really talked or even fought each other-but once they laid eyes on one another, it was an immediate hatred.

This type of detestation was one that went beyond Pikachu's usual dislike of others-there were no jokes, no sarcastic remarks flung back and forth, no words that upset either of them that would last only a few days-just ice and stabbing words colliding with each other.

They were two warriors hardened by life; whatever the other said meant nothing. It was nothing. They both knew this, they both saw it in each other's eyes when they spoke but they continued to reload their ammunition of hate, of insults.

"One could argue." Fox coolly said, his eyes boring into Pikachu's own, unblinking. Pikachu made an almost false-like scoff, continuing to stare into Fox like he was Hell itself.

"I wasn't aware you had such _feelings_ for me," The rat returned the hit, "I'm flattered you've considered it."

The corners of Fox's mouth twitched into a smile, an arrogant forceful one, watching Pikachu's defense steeling at his words. He felt his own barricades go up; hiding behind harsh words and quips.

"I'm flattered you took it the wrong way." Fox responded, batting it back and forth.

Pikachu's own mouth smirked, forceful like Fox's, forcing himself to acknowledge it as a witty joke. The room seemed to drop degrees with the more dialogue they spoke with each other, making their breath turn to ice.

"Fox McCloud to the Battle Arena. Fox McCloud." The P.A system voice broke through the ice, stirring Fox's mind back to the normal-he had a fight to go to. Pikachu was not the opponent today.

They simply departed-there were no words, no noise from either of them. It was like two emotionless warriors clashing with each other but both parted unharmed, unaffected by the fight. There was nothing to talk about, nothing to highlight.

XXX

Few days later 

Dr. Mario sighed, taking a look at Pikachu's arm that had been brutally slashed open by Link's sword during the fight earlier, pressing it gently with his forefinger. Pikachu winced slightly, no noise coming from his throat. This type of injury was common for Pikachu, he had grown steeled at almost all pain.

"You could've have just taken the fall, could you?" The doctor sighed, taking out some alcohol.

"You know me-if I fell, it meant I lost 20 dollars to Kirby." Pikachu said, "2nd place is not a place for me."

Dr. Mario rolled his eyes again, putting the alcohol on Pikachu's arm, making Pikachu grunt slightly in pain.

"Using the whole bottle there?" Pikachu asked sarcastically, "Remind me to sue you for malpractice if my scalp cells burn right off my arm."

As a response, Dr. Mario poured more on, pressing hard on it.

"You know, there _is_ a cut treatment that _doesn't _have the sting…" Pikachu started before the door open.

It was C.Falcon carrying Fox around his shoulder; Fox limping on his left foot. Their eyes met and stared coldly into another.

"He's got a bad foot," Falcon told Dr. Mario, "I think it's broken from Bowser."

"Yes, a few hundred pounds of shell and spikes will do that. Sit over there," Dr. Mario pointed to the bed next to Pikachu, "And I'll get to it right after Mr. Stubborn gets bandaged."

Pikachu made no acknowledgement at his comment, just lifelessly boring into Fox's skull. Fox pushed Falcon away and limped by himself to the bed, sitting on top of it. Falcon shrugged and walked off, leaving the three there.

The two enemies just stared ahead, not acknowledging they knew each other. Dr. Mario grabbed the white roll of bandages and started to wrap it around Pikachu's arm, Pikachu watching some blood seep into the top of it, making a red stain.

"Now, _next time_, how about not being so stubborn and take the fall instead of killing yourself over pride and-"

"Dr. Mario! Come quick!" A shrill voice echoed through the room, belonging to no one other than Peach, who hurriedly rushed in there, "Mario has third-degree burns all over him! Roy-"

"I'll be right there." Dr. Mario said, dropping the bandage roll and leaving the two alone in the room. Fox winced slightly at his foot pain and Pikachu just watched the roll unravel on the floor.

There was a silence-a cold, unforgiving silence between them, both waiting for Dr. Mario to come back.

Pikachu felt his face get chilly from the hate of the room, his cheeks numb and bitter. Fox merely toyed with the strap of his glove, his ears slightly shivering.

"Did you win?"

That suddenly pierced right through Pikachu-"What?"

"Did you win?" Fox repeated in a deadtone, still looking at his glove. Pikachu touched his arm gently, still feeling the pain.

"Yeah, I did." He responded in the same tone, "Wish I could say the same for you."

"I did win." Fox corrected him, not angrily but unemotionally, "I saw what you did out there."

"I'm glad." Pikachu callously said, looking out the doorway where Dr. Mario might be.

"It was pretty smart." The pilot said and they ended the conversation right there, mutually and silently.

Pikachu felt his hate pressure itself in his head-god, why did this Arwing pilot get his throat so much? This unimaginable abhorrence between them…

They didn't speak or look at each other for several minutes, their eyes cooling from each other's gaze.

Finally, Fox spoke up in loud but bored tones:

"Why do we hate each other so much?"

Pikachu made the first emotional face, his mouth turning into a frown, "I guess because we just do." He said with deadpan, looking over at Fox for the first time in the entire conversation.

"Haven't you ever wondered why, though?" Fox questioned again, this time, even more uninterested.

"Why do we fight?" Pikachu questioned him.

"Because we can." Fox answered back.

"Why do we hate each other?" Pikachu then fired back.

"Because we are able to." Fox answered just as fast.

"Good, your question is answered." The rat ended it, looking back straight ahead, unmoved by it.

Another dark cold silence filled the room.

Pikachu started to wonder if Dr. Mario was _ever_ coming back….

"Pikachu, are you a warrior?" Fox interrupted Pikachu's thoughts once more, bored and impatient.

"Yes. Aren't you?" Pikachu said.

"Yeah." Fox replied.

"So what?" Pikachu coldly asked him, his hated enemy. Fox merely shrugged, "Just curious. Maybe we just hate each other because we're true warriors and we are not interested in making friends." Fox theorized, making Pikachu scoff.

"You mean, not interested in making friends with _each other._" Pikachu corrected him.

"We're an interesting duo, Pikachu. If only you could appreciate it." Fox told him, dripping with sarcasm.

"How so? I hate you, you hate me. Not interesting at all." Pikachu countered back.

"Yeah but if we were on the same team, we would work together. Coldly like robots. We'd win. Everyone else hates or likes one other; it influences their fights. We just fucking hate each other for no reason at all." Fox stated.

"We'll never know why, Fox, but to be honest, I truly don't care and I plan to keep myself like that." The other warrior said with finality.

Fox chuckled-a forced, monotonic chuckle-"Spoken like a true fighter."

"If anyone else was here, they would falter and probably make the best of friends." Pikachu mumbled.

"We must be real fighters then, rat," Fox calmly said, "We don't let emotional stuff get into our hard shell."

"Sorry," Dr. Mario rushed in, breaking their unemotional conversation; "I'll get you both right now. Mario is just okay…he'll be sleeping here…"

Pikachu and Fox just sat there, totally impervious to each other as he finished the bandages.

"There Pikachu. Fox, I'll take a look at the foot now…" Dr. Mario let Pikachu go and Pikachu hopped off the bed, not even looking back at him.

He remembered a long time ago what his grandfather, a former warrior himself told him: "All warriors keep to themselves. The best are loners. Hate fuels the fight."

Then again, that old man died long time ago…

XXX

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